


Imaginary

by Fai_Gensou



Category: Bleach
Genre: Baby!Zangetsu, Gen, Kurosaki Masaki is amazing, Shinigami/Zanpakutou Bond, Zanpakutou Materialization, baby!Ichigo, warning:feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:28:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22052143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fai_Gensou/pseuds/Fai_Gensou
Summary: /There was something else in the crib with her son. Someone else, she mentally corrected as she approached, the white bundle turning out to be a baby, dressed in a white baby kimono and completely white from head to toe. The eyes told her just who this baby had to be.And then he smiled just like Ichigo./Hitsugaya Toushiro is not the only latent Shinigami powerful enough to manifest their Zanpakutou.It just causes more problems when the Zanpakutou is also a Hollow that is supposed to be sealed. Problems Masaki is willing to fix at arrow-point. In Urahara's ass.
Relationships: Hollow Ichigo & Kurosaki Ichigo & Zangetsu, Kurosaki Masaki & Zangetsu, background Kurosaki Isshin/Kurosaki Masaki
Comments: 142
Kudos: 569





	1. First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirallie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirallie/gifts).



> Because I tried counter-acting the negative feels with cuddly ones and now baby Ichigo and Zangetsu are clambering for my attention. This is why I need to stop reading new stuff. Or stick to nonfiction like my five-foot to read book stack would like me to.
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach.

There was a white bundle of something in the crib with Ichigo, almost glowing in the moonlight. _Someone_ , Masaki mentally corrected herself as she approached, the bundle turning out to be a baby that was completely and utterly white, save for tiny black spots that were the nails and the black sclera framing yellow irises.

It—he also looked just like Ichigo, coloring aside.

He felt like the Hollow Isshin had sacrificed his power to seal inside of her soul, that she ended up contacting by accident. And kept going back to see, babbling her life and thoughts and fears and hopes to it.

Until the day he wasn’t there, and Urahara-kun said that in all likelihood it had moved to Ichigo, fusing with his latent zanpakutou spirit.

So while he felt like that Hollow, more importantly, he felt like _Ichigo_. Like a dark twin of her son.

Ichigo had been crying, and halfway to his room the cries turned to cooing and sucking noises. The other baby’s fist was in Ichigo’s mouth, and Ichigo, no longer content with his own fists and having something new to distract him, was gnawing on it with an adorably serious look on his face. The spirit baby was looking in her general direction with a frown, looking exactly like Ichigo when he tried puzzling out whatever ‘trick’ Isshin, or Urahara-kun, pulled on his toys.

There was none of the dark malice and hunger of every other Hollow in his reiatsu or face, and as Ichigo realized she was there and beamed his sunshine smile, his zanpakutou spirit reacted just like him in the same half-second.

That did it.

Carefully, Masaki managed to pick both babies up, one in each arm as she went downstairs. She wasn’t concerned about Isshin waking up and wondering why she looked like she was carrying two babies; he slept very much like the dead (irony aside, he WAS a deep sleeper).

She looked between the bottles of breast milk lined up in the fridge and the babies she was carrying, wondering how to manage picking up two bottles (Ichigo’s zanpakutou might be at minimum curious; could a zanpakutou spirit eat ‘real’ food?) while holding two babies. Shifting so both babies were over one arm and pressed to her chest, she grabbed two bottles and got them in her pot of boiling water without dropping either of them.

Mentally doing a happy dance, she noticed the spirit baby had a lock of her hair in his fist and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, while Ichigo was content to tug and spread her hair, fascinated by how one lock become countless strands.

At least she thought so; unfortunately no one’s figured out how to speak baby.

Ichigo didn’t complain when she set him in his little chair with his bottle propped up and him trying to hold it, absorbed in his meal as she kept his zanpakutou spirit in her arms, showing him the bottle. She let a drop of milk fall into his mouth, making him jump. Carefully maneuvering the bottle nipple into his mouth, he looked at her, then at the bottle, then finally at Ichigo, before mimicking Ichigo’s actions. That didn’t last long, since after a couple of sucks he pushed the bottle away, looking betrayed. “Not a fan of bottles, are we?” She said softly, letting sound intrude into the quiet as she wiped up the milk he had spit out.

He let out a short cry, the first noise he’d made (or that she’d heard him make), and the altered tone of a Hollow in his voice seemed to startle him. Ichigo looked up and made his own cry, bottle still in his mouth.

They seemed to hold a conversation, as the zanpakutou eyed the bottle as Ichigo ‘talked’, before reaching for the bottle. He hardly took an ounce worth before pushing it away again, but without the betrayed look. Eyeing the reminder, Masaki decided to see if Ichigo was still hungry. She didn’t want to refrigerate it again after heating it up, but she hated to have to pour it out.

Ichigo ate some, but she still had to pour some away. Ichigo’s zanpakutou spirit seemed fine, so going to the living room, she carefully let him lay in her lap as she burped Ichigo, the sound making the spirit giggle. “That sounded a little creepy.” She told him, and he blinked at her. “But as a part of my son, that makes you my son as well. So I won’t let it bother me.”

The stunned look she received made her heart ache, and she cuddled him close to her with Ichigo with watery eyes, and Ichigo hugged on him as well. But this, it seemed, was a little too much for him, as suddenly she was only holding one baby. “?” Ichigo looked between her and the spot the infant form of his zanpakutou spirit/inner hollow had occupied, confused.

“He’s still here baby boy. He’s in your heart.” Tickling his chest over his heart made him giggle, before he frowned and made a different cry. “I don’t know if he’ll come back out.” She admitted. “But maybe you can see him in your dreams.”

Mollified, Ichigo let himself be rocked to sleep, and Masaki went back to bed herself.

One thing that never crossed her mind was telling her husband.

* * *

Over a week passed before she saw the white baby. Isshin was occupied in the clinic, and she was sitting there doing finances, while Ichigo was laying on a blanket on the floor, rolling around and trying to crawl. She had built a makeshift ‘pen’ around the blanket, and he was far enough from the stairs that she wasn’t worried. She leaned back and cracked her neck. “I’m glad we don’t have student loans or a mortgage…” She said out loud.

They owned the house and clinic outright; Isshin had originally ‘rented’ (if a yen a year could be called rent), from Urahara-kun, and Urahara-kun had signed ownership over to both of them when they married. Her schooling had been funded by what was originally her dowry account, and Ryuu-kun kept receiving ‘unaccounted devices’ that the manufacturers or sellers wouldn’t take back that he passed on to Isshin, on top of the money that was his standard gift for every remotely viable occasion.

The incubator Isshin had received shortly after he’d learned she was pregnant had really pushed the bounds of credibility, but Isshin had been willing to take it at face value, understanding that this was Ryuu-kun’s way of looking after her, like he’d promised her mother.

Souken-jii was thoroughly enjoying the presence of grandchildren, and was ready and able to babysit. In fact, two months after Ichigo was born, he had turned up one day, taken one look at her frazzled hair, and had bundled her into Kanae-chan’s care and assured her that Ichigo could survive a few hours without her before she’d fully realized it. It certainly hadn’t hurt that Isshin got along with him, and Souken-jii in return greatly respected the sacrifice Isshin had made for what by all rights was his enemy.

Tidying up the paperwork, she climbed into the ‘pen’, and two heads, one orange one white, looked up at her. “Are you having fun?” She asked, quietly wondering how long the white baby had been out, getting a pair of beaming sunshine smiles before Ichigo and his zanpakutou spirit began pulling themselves towards her, each trying to get to her first.

She met them halfway, and scooped them up. “I caught baby~!” She sing-songed, cuddling them close and rubbing noses.

Then she could hear Isshin in the hallway that connected the clinic and the house, and then she was holding one baby again. Ichigo let out a high-pitched screech he’d just learned to make, pouting at Isshin. “What?! You’ve had Momma all to yourself since breakfast!” He protested, darting in for a kiss before Ichigo shoved his face away.

“Not really; I was going over finances.” She countered, setting Ichigo down so she could kiss her husband properly, no matter how cute Ichigo’s jealousy was.

* * *

That night, she went to Ichigo’s room. He was alone in his crib, but something told her that his zanpakutou could hear her. “You can come out anytime you want when I’m alone.” She said, smiling softly when he appeared, sort of slouched but otherwise sitting up pretty well.

Ichigo was sound asleep, but she picked him up with his zanpakutou spirit and held them both as she sat in the glider in the corner. “What to call you…” She wondered, the spirit looking between her face and Ichigo’s. “’Shiro’ is right out.” She said, the spirit making a face in agreement.

Looking out the window, the waning crescent moon caught her eye. “’Tsuki’. I’m going to call you Tsuki, until Ichigo can hear your name. Is that okay?”

He had that stunned look again, but he smiled, which Masaki took as agreement. “Ichigo-chan and Tsuki-chan.” _My sons_.

* * *

“ _Come on; you gotta come back with me._ ”

Masaki paused just outside Ichigo’s room. Tsuki had taken advantage of Isshin’s absence at lunch to appear (much like Ichigo he seemed to absolutely HATE the mashed green beans), and she had put both babies down for a nap together.

Edging the door open a fraction, she peeked in.

It was someone of about teenage age years, thin and gangly, dressed in black. Taking in the profile of the face, she decided it was likely a boy, his dark brown hair ending just above his shoulders. Ichigo and Tsuki were both awake and sitting up, and had identical obstinate looks on their faces. The teen ran a hand through his hair, perched on the crib railing. “ _Neither of us should be out here to start with; he’s way too young to do anything like fighting and if they realize—_ “

“If who realizes what?” Masaki asked she opened the door enough for her to slip inside.

The teen started, arms flailing as he came very close to losing his balance and falling off, while Ichigo and Tsuki beamed at her as she approached. “Did we have good dreams then?” She asked with a smile, taking the baby babble for an affirmative as she checked diapers (even though thus far Tsuki only seemed to be wearing one because Ichigo was and not out of genuine need).

Setting Ichigo on the changing table and began wrangling him in what she felt might be an expert manner to change him. The teen just stared at her, wide-eyed, and now that she was close enough she noticed that his reiatsu felt like any other Quincy’s, but like Ichigo at the same time. Much like how Tsuki felt like a Hollow and like Ichigo at the same time. Mastering his surprise, the closed off look that crossed the teen’s face brought to mind a portrait she’d only seen twice, the second time as her father burned it after soaking the entire thing in gasoline. “He knows to leave when Isshin approaches, and so far there hasn't been anything rougher about his play compared to Ichigo’s.”

The teen hunched in on himself. “ _He’s only out here because of the loophole; the binding on the Hollow only binds the Hollow; when he’s mostly zanpakutou its like its not there, and if he gets spotted they’ll just bind him up even more, which wouldn’t be healthy for Ichigo. But he promised not to be seen!_ ” He protested at the end, sounding exactly like the teenage complaints she remembered from high school.

“He can talk to you? And you can understand him?” Masaki asked, praying that the holy grail of motherhood, understanding baby babble was at hand.

“ _It’s not quite talking with your voice; but he’s been getting better picturing things. Even if he forgot to show me that you saw him._ ” The teen just sulked, sending Tsuki a dirty look that he ignored.

But Masaki wasn’t going to ignore it. She smacked the back of his head. “None of that young man.” She scolded. “Urahara-kun can take his theories and suggestions and shove them.”

Ichigo changed, she picked up Tsuki as well as a wide-eyed stunned look held her glaze. “I’m not senseless to what he feels like, just like I'm not senseless to what you feel like or who you resemble. But even with all that, both of you feel just like Ichigo. Which is the only thing that matters.”

The teen, already pale, managed to pale a couple more shades. He huddled in on himself, looking like a crow perched on a power line. “ _I’ve tried looking different, less like him, but there’s only so much I can push it. Since that’s the image his Quincy part reflects in his mind._ ” She might be imagining it, but it seemed that he was disappointed about that fact.

Tsuki had twisted his fists in her shirt, grabbing her bra strap in the process and trying to merge into her, but Ichigo, with a contemplative look on his face, reached over for the teen to pick him him.

Masaki bit her lip as the teen eyed Ichigo like a regular person would eye a dangerous animal. “He’s a baby, not a Hollow bristling with claws. But get off the crib rail first.” She directed, vaguely surprised that she was listened to.

Verbally directing the best way to hold Ichigo, she left the room with the unspoken expectation that she’d be followed. And she was, even if the footsteps were trying too hard not to be heard. “Isshin got an emergency case and went with her to the emergency room when the ambulance came. We’ll have warning if someone comes close.” She told him as she descended the stairs, looking back when she reached the bottom.

He looked to seriously be considering leaping the whole set of stairs, but somehow her warning look stopped him, giving her hope that her mothering skills would work with teenagers. He was still rigid as he sat down without prompting, but Ichigo didn’t care about that, studying the hair that was in reach seriously. “What should I call you?” She asked, hoping to prod him out of his impression of a statue.

“ _…Tensa?_ ” He suggested half-heartedly.

“Well then Ten-chan,” ‘Ten-chan’ choked on nothing upon hearing this. “It will be good to have another set of hands helping with them, especially as they become more mobile.”

Ichigo and Tsuki, recognizing the tone silly Daddy got when he upset Momma, giggled a little at the fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zangetsu/Hollow Ichigo is ALWAYS called 'Shiro' it seems, so I went with something different.


	2. White Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this story has gotten the highest number of first chapter reviews within 24 hours of posting. So naturally instead of any of my other stories, I wrote up more cuteness for the New Year. 
> 
> And shout out to my grandmother, who turned 94 on the 30th. If I live anywhere near as long, I hope I do so with her health. (Triple bypass! At 87!)

He.

Absolutely.

Hated.

White.

So of course he was surrounded by it, and covered in it. The only thing that wasn’t white on him was his nails, which were black for some reason.

One of the pieces from the Shinigami he was made of threw up something about why children powerful enough to manifest a zanpakutou spirit young were so rare. A different bit whispered about a boy whose ice zanpakutou was beginning to freeze people in his sleep.

It had been white, wherever he’d been before his ( _creatorcaptainfriendTRAITOR_ ) dumped him in that rainy city. He was hazy about if it had been raining the first few times (only to be drugged and hauled back to the white place), but it was when he met the Girl.

He felt less like a he back then, trying to beat the fiery Shinigami captain ( _Shibaclansmancousinidiot_ ) enough so he could take him over and beat the zanpakutou spirit into submission when reishi arrows ( _butweslaughteredallofthemright_ ) flew at him in a hailstorm.

It was a girl, dressed in something his pieces knew was a ‘uniform’ with a fierce look in her eyes. If he’d been capable of it ( _thetraitorhatedthescreaming_ ), he’d have drooled over her reiatsu—strong and bright and lively.

And no trace of a zanpakutou spirit to destroy.

A piece had whispered a warning about…something ( _likehierro_ ), but the imperative so carefully shaped into his being and bound by the ( _acidslimePAINburning_ ) in his hole overruled everything.

It was strange that she didn’t bleed, and that she let him bite her, but satisfaction in her reiatsu heralded reishi straight to his head. But he hadn’t needed her to bleed; he only had to bite her soul and he’d done that.

But her soul was tumbling towards Soul Suicide, then that fiery captain turned up and bound him up in his fire. ( _knewhewasstupidbutnotthisstupid_ )

It hurt, fire reishi backed with a captain’s power ( _worsethantheburningbeamthattrappedhim_ ), but it still hurt less than the ( _emptyhungerHOLLOWhungry_ ) of the white place.

He hadn’t thought he’d see the Girl again.

The first few times it was clear that she wasn’t aware of how she was reaching him, but the pattern the visits fell into said that she learned to do it on purpose for whatever reason.

( _crazierthantheShibarestoffamily_ )

His pieces agreed on how strange it was for him to take solace in visits from a survivor of the Quincy, but remembering what she said and picturing what she told him about made it easier to stop the fire from hurting, since he’d learned the hard way ( _Pavlov’sdog_ ) that it hurt more the more he was Hollow.

His sense of time didn’t exist ( _oneofhistrickswashidingthesunfromyoumeus_ ), but it felt like no time at all before he was irresistibly pulled ( _metalfillingstomagnet_ ) to a bright new soul. It was so strong! And there was what would be its zanpakutou so he filled it up with himself, working and kneading and blending himself into the new soul’s zanpakutou until he couldn’t be taken out without damaging the new soul.

The fire binding him was still there, but it felt…weaker, just like how his pieces were weaker. He—and he knew to his core he was a ‘he’ now—was less a bunch of soul bits bound by chemical imperative and heretic science ( _somelinesshouldneverbecrossed_ ) and more like a complete person.

( _Wasthis like how onesoul dominates inside aHollow?_ )

Something shifted, and he( _newsoul_ ) broke free of the cord that had nourished him until that point, and then another shift and he was Alive.

It was then that he truly realized what it was to be a zanpakutou. One of the stronger soul pieces from Before tossed up the memory of holding a baby, with all the love and pride and desire to protect attached.

He was his wielder, yes, but he was the essence of his wielder, good and bad traits, wanting to keep him safe while at the same time prodding him forward, stronger.

_(What did it say about the traitor, for his zanpakutou to have the power it did?)_

( _Smiler with a knife indeed._ )

He wanted to see Outside ( _again_ ), so sipping on his wielder’s power, he formed a body Outside.

Bad.

Idea.

It was too loud and too rough and too bright. And too white.

He ran away from the Outside almost as soon as he’d entered the body he’d made.

It was white Inside, too, but the part that was a zanpakutou knew it wouldn’t stay white. It was white at present because he was so young. He was interacting with the world for the first time, and until he stopped being overwhelmed by sensory overload and the sheer newness of everything, Inside would stay white.

Inside was where he met the Other, a blot of black. Most of the time Other ignored him, playing with his Presentation in a way that made him jealous, since he KNEW he looked like his wielder, and his appearance would change as his wielder aged. He didn’t know where Other came from, or what he was, but he felt the same mix of feelings about his wielder coming from the Other, so maybe he wasn’t so much of an interloper.

One soul piece, older and fainter than all the others, crashed forward like a boar through the underbrush, with images of a man who looked similar to the Other, and the sense that it related to Quincy. Did Quincy have something similar to a zanpakutou spirit too? The soul pieces were becoming too fragmented and diffuse for him to remember, starting with what had been the weaker ones, and the clearest memories were of the Girl and what she’d said.

But now enough time had passed since his wielder’s birth, and as his wielder developed his personality, his own changed to pair with it.

And he was bored. The Other wasn’t in sight, and while he felt the sense of outlines, everything was still white. He could move, properly move, now that his wielder was learning to roll and crawl and control what did what, but it took too much effort, and he never felt like he was going anywhere.

The worst part, he guessed, was that he was too bored to even sleep. He hadn’t realized it was even possible, and he really could have done without that knowledge.

Wait…there was…something, coming from his wielder. Now that he had noticed it, it quickly grew in sensation and noise. And replaced boredom with annoyance. He couldn’t really place what it was, but it was annoying enough that he tapped on enough power to appear Outside again, hoping it wouldn’t be like the last time.

It was dark in a way that his mind whispered was ‘night’. He was on his side, in a wooden frame that held a ‘western’ mattress, itself covered with something soft and warm. He felt at his feet something that must be a blanket, kicked off by the squirming, unhappy form next to him.

His wielder. _Ichigo_ , his core whispered. _Strawberry, protector_.

He couldn’t tell in the darkness, but Ichigo’s hair seemed lighter than it should have been. A flailing fist smacked his face, which stopped his perusal of Ichigo but hadn’t stopped Ichigo’s flailing.

Irrationally, he felt extremely insulted by that. He stuck his own fist in Ichigo’s mouth, which startled him enough to stop flailing and crying. There were hard spots that some part told him were teeth working their way through the gum, and now that he was watching Ichigo gnaw on his fist and suck on it, he realized that sensation he’d felt before coming out was hunger.

Ichigo’s hands held onto his arm, keeping his fist right where it was. He knew that by all rights Ichigo shouldn’t be powerful enough to even see him, let alone touch him, but there was a burst of pride at the sheer potential squirming next to him.

A familiar reiatsu drew closer. Right, Ichigo’s cries would have drawn notice from his parents or caretakers, and even if he’d stopped they would likely want to check on him. He thought about going back Inside, but then the reiatsu was close enough for the person projecting it to look into the space containing himself and Ichigo.

It was the Girl, a little older, but as strong and as lively and as bright as the last time he’d felt her. He had missed seeing her, hearing her talk about her day or what she’d been reading or even monologuing about the fiery captain Isshin.

His mouth stretched into what faint memory called a smile, one that threatened to consume his face. Ichigo, seeing the Girl too, reacted the same way, with a burst of _warmsafefoodsoft_. Returning their smiles with a soft one of her own, through some feat of strength and dexterity she picked up him and Ichigo together.

He grabbed a handful of cloth, looking at the house wide eyed as she took them downstairs, a little shocked that she could pick him up. He didn’t know enough about zanpakutou to know if that was unusual, and that part of him was no help. He blinked as a light came on, revealing a kitchen. With the light he could see that Ichigo’s hair was the same color as hers, but a few shades lighter, making something inside twist. He just knew that it was lighter because some part of him had tried to paint Ichigo in the same white he was cursed with.

He grabbed onto a lock of hair, soft and warm, and he had it in his mouth before he realized it. On the other side Ichigo had grabbed a lock of his own, but instead of ramming it in his mouth he was spreading it apart, looking at the individual strands.

There was a strange beeping noise, and he watched the Girl remove a pair of bottles from a pot of boiling water. He’d completely missed that happening. Ichigo was set in a small cloth chair, with items arranged to keep the bottle at the right angle for him to eat. He couldn’t figure out what the other bottle was for, because if Ichigo was eating two wouldn’t be better to wait to heat up a second, but the Girl sat down, still holding him with the second bottle in hand.

Huh? He didn’t need to eat, but he had to admit that he was curious; none of his soul pieces remembered the taste of food. He was startled from his thoughts when a drop of milk hit his mouth, then the part of the bottle he was to drink from (nipple?) was carefully positioned in his mouth.

He couldn’t help staring at her, before staring at the bottle. Did she really expect him to eat this? Looking at Ichigo, he saw his wielder was already halfway done his bottle, so it wasn’t that bad, right? Studying the movement, he started the job of getting the milk out of the bottle.

He pushed the bottle away, spitting out the milk he’d tasted. “Not a fan of bottles, are we?” The Girl spoke quietly, like it was wrong to speak louder right now as she wiped him clean.

It wasn’t the bottle it was the milk! He might not really remember what food tasted like, but he was certain it was meant to be better than that! Not…bland and… “ ** _Eww._** ” He said, or tried to, since not only was the sound that came out of his mouth not quite right, it was in the voice of a Hollow, which he hadn’t expected.

Ichigo called to him, bottle still in his mouth. He looked at him, and Ichigo asked what amounted to ‘why aren’t you eating’?

'It doesn’t taste good at all', he conveyed, still with the damn Hollow voice but it wasn’t something he could fix at the moment.

‘But it comes from Momma.’ Ichigo said with furrowed brow.

'?' He, for some unknown reason (but likely because of the soul pieces) was pretty sure that if the milk HAD come from the Girl, Momma Ichigo called her, they would be eating from her chest(breasts), and he told Ichigo as much.

Waving a hand, Ichigo basically said that there was a ‘noisemaker’ that Momma used to take the milk out of her and keep in the cold box. ‘Doesn’t like the teeth, and so Daddy can have ‘bonding time’ feeding me.’ Ichigo finished. ‘And people weird about chest eating.’

He had a dubious eye on the bottle the whole time. The Living World had machines for women to express their milk and store it for later? It struck him as strange, but also practical, since the little he knew said that women worked after having a baby in the Living World, and they couldn’t work with a baby on their chest. And…

She didn’t have to give him milk he didn’t need that was meant for Ichigo. If she hadn’t realized what he was when she saw him, his voice surely would have given it away. But she had, and was watching him and Ichigo as they talked, seemingly waiting for some kind of decision to be made despite not being able to understand what they were saying.

His chest felt weird, when she smiled at him after he reached for the bottle. And it kept feeling weird as she held his gaze while he ate. In the hazy memories of her visits he hadn’t been able to ignore her, but now she was looking him in the eye. He doubted his eyes were anything remotely typical, but it wasn’t bothering her.

Thankfully, the distaste towards the milk got to be too much to ignore, and he pushed it away. She held it up, looking at the lines on one side. “Whee!” She whispered as she pulled Ichigo closer, making him giggle. “Still hungry?” She asked even as Ichigo reached for the bottle.

There was a third of the bottle still left when Ichigo pushed the bottle away, which she poured down the sink with a slight frown. Something twisted with the milk in his stomach as she picked Ichigo back up and moved to the sofa. Bracing her feet on the low table, he was laid on her lap as Ichigo was placed on her shoulder and she started patting his back.

He couldn’t stop his giggle when Ichigo burped, especially with the feeling of irritation Ichigo had for it. “That was a little creepy.” The Girl remarked to him, and he just blinked. Which part was? Hearing a Hollow giggle, or hearing a doppelganger of her son giggle like a Hollow? “But as a part of my son, that makes you my son as well. So I won’t let it bother me.”

…wha…? Did she say—?

For some reason her eyes were watery as she picked him up, hugging him to her chest with Ichigo, who tossed an arm across him.

He had no clue what was going on. Ichigo was a baby so he could be excused with his ignorance, but she clearly knew what he was. What he still was.

He ran, going back Inside to his whiteness. He still hated it, but for the moment it was better than...whatever the Girl was doing, saying he was her son. Closing his eyes, he curled up as much as he could, feeling cold despite the complete lack of temperature sensation.

* * *

Ichigo was doing something that was making the whiteness shiver and ripple, and he wanted to know what.

He appeared on his belly, a soft plush blanket underneath him and a few scattered toys in view. It was daytime, and he could feel the Girl close-ish.

‘You’re back!’ Ichigo beamed at him. ‘Momma was sad when you went away.’

‘What are you doing?’ He asked, ignoring the stab that feel like guilt in his stomach.

‘Crawling.’ Ichigo demonstrated. Except…

‘That’s not crawling.’ He informed him. ‘You gotta get up on your knees.’

‘Then you do it!’ Ichigo glared and pouted at the same time.

‘Fine!’ But crawling suddenly became harder than he remembered, since his body stubbornly refused to get up on his knees. Had he always been so weak that he couldn’t get up on his knees?

“Are you having fun?” The Girl asked, stepping over a low box that he now noticed blocked off the blanket from the rest of the floor.

His chest had that weird feeling again as he and Ichigo both smiled at her. Since his knees wouldn’t cooperate, he reached his arms out and tried pulling himself forward, in her direction. That went a little better than his crawling attempt, and Ichigo copied him, trying to get to the Girl first.

She met them half-way (which was good, since the blanket made everything harder) and picked them up, some unknown skill letting her pick up a baby with each arm. “I caught baby~!” She sang, cuddling them to her and rubbing her nose with Ichigo’s, then his nose, all of them giggling.

But then he felt the fiery captain. He was strangely muted, but the fire that bound the Hollow flared up, and the sensation shocked him enough that he fled. He had no way of fighting back like this, and he wasn’t going to trust a half-remembered notion of ‘honor’ to keep him safe.

* * *

The fire died down when the fiery captain got far enough away, and he watched it carefully for a time, realizing that its strength varied based on the distance from Ichigo. He scowled when he remembered that the fiery captain was named Isshin, and Isshin was the guy the Girl rambled about so much and had married.

Now that he could feel Ichigo, he managed to hear what Ichigo heard Outside. Yep, the fiery captain called himself ‘Daddy’, and it seemed like he was the primary ‘entertainment’ for Ichigo in the evening, capped off with bath time. Hopefully he wasn’t in charge of bath time every bath; the sheer joy and excitement Ichigo felt splashing in the water made him eager to join him.

When he was settled down for the night in the ‘crib’, Ichigo called to him, but he didn’t answer. He had no clue how Ichigo would react to a voice in his head, and ‘Daddy’s’ muted reiatsu felt too active for him to feel safe appearing. He listened as Ichigo gave into the sleep tugging on him, listening to the sounds of the adults doing their evening tasks and going to bed themselves.

He was listening to the sounds Ichigo heard in his sleep that formed up his image of ‘home’, when he felt the Girl enter Ichigo’s room and draw close. “You can come out anytime you want when I’m alone.” She said, trusting that he’d hear her.

And he did, sitting next to the sleeping Ichigo. The weird feeling in his chest that he got when she smiled at him came back, and something made him realize this time that it was a similar mix to the burst of emotion he felt from Ichigo that first night.

She picked him up, then the still sleeping Ichigo, going to sit in a cushioned chair. Moving, it seemed to slide back and forth as he looked between her and Ichigo. They shared a nose, he realized, and the shape of the eyes was similar too. “What to call you…” She wondered. “’Shiro’ is right out.”

He grimaced at the suggestion. He had more than enough White in his existence to have it as his name. He followed her gaze out the window, where a crescent moon hung in the sky, the lights of the Living World hiding the stars that should be with it. Why is the Living World so bright, even at night? Can it really afford to power all those lights all the time? “’Tsuki’.”

Her voice distracted him from his thoughts. “I’m going to call you Tsuki, until Ichigo can hear your name. Is that okay?” She asked, a touch uncertain at the end.

Once again he was floored, the mix of _warmsafesoft_ filling him up. Something in him said he had the moon in his name, in his zanpakutou name, and part of him was surprised that she had picked up on something only Ichigo should have realized.

But he really shouldn’t have been. Not after everything the Girl…Momma…had already done. He smiled the approval he couldn’t truly voice.

With a smile of her own, she hugged both of them a fraction closer. “Ichigo-chan and Tsuki-chan.” She said, something that might be pride to her voice.

She didn’t say it out loud, but Tsuki knew what the second part was.

_My sons._

Impulsively his hand grabbed one of Ichigo’s, and Tsuki tucked his head next to Ichigo. There was a dull, rhythmic thump under his head, that became clearer when he closed his eyes. A distance piece remembered that it was a heartbeat, and for the first time he could recall he fell asleep easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can someone please define what is meant by calling a character in fanfiction a cinnamon roll??? Cuz I feel like someone will make that comment and I haven't figured out what it means yet. 
> 
> No, I'm not crying, you're crying!


	3. Ten-chan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the morning after I posted the last chapter, my grandmother had to go to the ER for shortness of breath. She had fluid on her lungs and they kept her a few days until her blood pressure went down enough for them to be happy. Nice way to start the new year.

Ichigo couldn’t stop his giggles as his— _something_ spat the yucky green stuff out of his mouth as soon as the spoon left his mouth. His hands went to his mouth, trying to scrap it out as he ‘glared’ at Ichigo.

It had been worth pretending to like it to tempt him out. “So green beans are out…” Momma noted, grabbing one of the wet cloths and cleaning off the green stuff.

‘Why’d you do that?’ He asked as Momma switched to the far tastier apple sauce. Ichigo wasn’t sure he realized he wasn’t talking with his mouth. The few noises he had made out loud sounded weird, like the masked monster he saw once (he thought?), so Ichigo figured he didn’t like how he sounded out loud.

‘Missed you!’ Ichigo chirped, wiping his tongue around his lips so he didn’t miss a bit of apple sauce.

Ichigo had the distinct feeling that his something didn’t really understand why Ichigo missed him, like the thought of being missed never occurred to him. “Did Ichigo-chan pretend to like the green beans to get you to come out and try them, Tsuki-chan?” Momma asked as she held a spoonful close to ‘Tsuki-chan’s’ mouth so he could try it if he wanted to.

Tsuki.

It felt right, like how ‘Ichigo’ felt right for him, the first time he’d truly understood what it meant.

Tsuki’s eyes flicked between Momma and the spoon, before his tongue slowly came out to taste a bit. Once the taste hit, the whole spoonful disappeared. ‘Wanna try Momma’s food…’ Ichigo whined, reaching for the white stuff he thought was called ‘rice’, only for Momma to move it out of his way without looking.

“You need more teeth for this Ichigo.” Momma reminded him.

Ichigo pouted. He didn’t like teeth; so far all they did was hurt his gums. ‘Teeth are worth it once you can have real food.’ Tsuki assured him. ‘I think so, at least.’

‘Think so?’ Ichigo asked, Tsuki only having one more spoonful of apple sauce before shaking his head and pushing the spoon away, leaving more for him.

‘No one in me remembers what real food tastes like.’ Ichigo frowned at Tsuki, distracted from the deliciousness of apple sauce by the weird things coming from him. He felt adult-sad, like when Daddy had a person die at work or Momma when she mentioned his ‘grandparents’. There was a brief sense that Ichigo wasn’t feeling one being, but a bunch of them, stuck together and adult-sad and hurt, like when his ears had hurt inside, but a lot worse.

Tsuki ignored his concern, ‘glaring’ at his toes. It seemed like he didn’t like how the ‘nails’ were black, but Ichigo wished his were; he always forgot about them and scratched himself without realizing it. Looking at both of them as she cleaned up, Momma’s smile seemed adult-sad. “Time for a nap~!” She forced an extra touch of song at the end, picking both of them up.

Ichigo cried, stopping shy of the high-pitch screech he’d learned, since that was for Daddy. ‘But I’m not sleepy!’

The fact that he was always sleepy after he ate had nothing to do with it! ‘Liar.’ Tsuki called him out. ‘It’s not that bad.’

‘But I don’t wanna miss anything!’ Ichigo complained, rubbing his eye. Did Momma put something in the food so he would sleep?

Tsuki sighed like he was Momma’s age, rolling his eyes like Ichigo had seen Momma do at Daddy when he couldn’t see and was being extra silly. ‘Everything will still be here when you wake up. And don’t you see stuff when you sleep?’

‘Like what?’ Ichigo asked as they reached his room.

Tsuki shrugged as Momma put them both down in the crib. ‘Like playing in the water or something. You don’t miss anything; you just make up your own stuff, even if you forget later.’

Ichigo considered this as Momma made sure the cloth strawberry jii-chan made for him was close by, draping a blanket over his and Tsuki’s bottom halves. “Have good dreams, and don’t keep him awake chatting. Either of you.” Momma gave them both a stern look, but her eyes were smiling too much for her to be serious.

Tsuki rolled onto his side, moving closer to Ichigo. He felt warm, which was nice. Not that Ichigo was cold, but he liked that he could touch Tsuki and feel the warmth of his body. Speaking of which, Tsuki had tossed his arm over him, putting his fist in reach of his mouth. ‘Chew on your own fist.’ Tsuki chided but didn’t move his fist, much like when Daddy let him chew on his fingers.

In the dim quiet of his room, his _something_ warm and solid next to him with a full belly, Ichigo didn’t realize when he fell asleep.

* * *

Ichigo was in a city that was on his side, to his confusion. He was bigger, too, dressed in clothes like Daddy had worn to the shrine on ‘New Year’s’, with something solid on his back.

Tsuki was across from him, also bigger, wearing what Ichigo just knew was the inverse of what he was wearing, color wise. He was trying to be mean, with the weird look on his face and the dark feelings around him, but something told Ichigo that he was putting on a show, no matter how real it felt.

Not that the big him realized it. “Where’s -------?!?! What’d you do to him?!” He heard and felt himself yelling, tensing for a fight.

 _ **“I’m in charge now, not him. You’ve been using my power, after all, and that only makes me stronger.”**_ Tsuki drew his sword, and began spinning it, using the cloth that hung from the handle. _**“** **So let’s do this. Show me why you should be King and me the horse.”**_

Ichigo felt himself leaping to the side, way farther than a person should be able to leap, as Tsuki flung his spinning sword at him. He drew his sword, some kind of energy building up at the tip. He slashed at Tsuki, the energy flying in a crescent moon arc. He felt himself speaking, but the name was lost as Tsuki, reacting REALLY fast, countered with something almost identical, but pure black. “The hell that even mean?!” He heard himself demand.

 _ **“What’s the difference between a King and a horse? I don’t mean some grade-school bullshit like number of legs. What is the reason that one carries the other into battle, while the other fights the battle?”**_ Tsuki wasn’t even breathing hard as they traded blows, and Ichigo felt the arms of his bigger body aching from the effort of blocking the blows. This bigger Tsuki felt overwhelmingly strong, and Ichigo could feel the bigger him reminding himself that he had to beat him and make him go away. To keep his friends and family safe.

Huh?

Didn’t big him realize that Tsuki was a part of him? Even if big Tsuki didn’t really care about big him’s friends, there’s no way big Tsuki would truly hurt Ichigo’s family.

What he was seeing was starting to bother Ichigo. True he’d only been with Tsuki a few times, but he could tell Tsuki didn’t really mean…whatever he’d done to scare big-him so badly. It’s like big-him had just met Tsuki in the worst possible manner, and was intent on denying the truth, even in the depths of his soul.

Things changed, and now he was Outside, with some weird…thing that looked human but wasn’t, since humans didn’t have holes in their bellies they could see through. His sight in his left eye was going, and he could feel something solid forming on that side of his face. Whatever was happening, it was making big-him panic, terrified of…something, since giving in to whatever that was would be admitting that it really was him, that he really was just like the monster that killed—

It was raining, and there was something heavy on top of him, that he couldn’t see but that big-him could, making guilt fill him up and overflow onto the grass, just like the blood—

Ichigo reached for the warmth he knew was next to him when he fell asleep, for the fist he’d been gnawing on, for _his_ Tsuki, who was stunned and adult-sad and quiet, who mind-talked because he hated the sound of his voice but who let Ichigo draw him out with feelings of enjoyment.

His Tsuki’s warmth surrounded him like his favorite blanket, pushing away the guilt and the rain and the images of big-him being terrified of big-Tsuki to the point of fighting to lock him away. It was a lot like when Momma or Daddy let him fall asleep in their arms, which happened more than they liked, and let him awake up to them still holding him.

Shifting, Ichigo did his best to hug back, and now he was in a tub of warm water, with lots of bubbles and Tsuki was in the tub with him, hitting the water with his hands and splashing Ichigo, so Ichigo did the same thing back, Momma and Daddy watching both of them with warm smiles.

* * *

Tsuki stirred from his own nap when he felt Ichigo reaching out to him, scared of whatever he was dreaming of. He settled after Tsuki wrapped him up with his own reiatsu, and Tsuki got the sense of water and splashing.

He frowned as he considered what he had picked up while Ichigo was dreaming earlier. It seemed like some kind of zanpakutou training thing, but both his older counterpart and Ichigo’s were acting like he wasn’t Ichigo’s zanpakutou, but just Ichigo’s Hollow. And why was he trying to take over Ichigo during a fight? Especially with as terrified as he was? Nevermind the implications of the last bit, of someone important to Ichigo dying to protect him, and he felt like it was his fault.

His mind went to the Other, and he scowled. He better not be trying to drive a wedge between us, even at this young age. The Other had ‘asked’ (for a certain value of the word ‘ask’) where’d he’d been, and he’d shown him that he had been with Ichigo Outside.

 ** _I wonder if Ichigo’s mind will develop faster? It would certainly help when he’s closer to being able to actually speak. And if we start on control early enough, hopefully he won’t become Hollow bait._** He reflected, noticing that Ichigo had rolled to his side, so they were now facing each other. Wiggling closer, it was easy to hug onto Ichigo and drift back to sleep, backing sure his reiatsu still shrouded both of them.

* * *

Ichigo woke up slowly, over an hour later. He stretched, rolling to his back as best he could with Tsuki still hugging him.

That was when he saw Him. Dressed in black, he crouched on the crib railing, and Ichigo wished he’d get down, since he didn’t want to get squished when he fell off. He thumped his fist on Tsuki’s back, while poking at that sense of warmth he got from Tsuki. Tsuki wasn’t happy about being woken up, but he was even less happy to see Him.

 _ **“Ooooo.”**_ He said, using his real voice. ‘What the hell do you what?’ Ichigo heard in his head, as both of them pushed themselves into sitting positions.

 _“Language.”_ Him scolded with narrow eyes. _“And what are you doing, spending so much time out here?”_

Who was he to tell Tsuki not to spend a lot of time with him? Ichigo glared and tried growling like the dog he heard once.

But that just made both Tsuki and Him bit back laughs, especially when they realized the other wanted to laugh too. With a pout, Ichigo tried to convey in his mind that this guy didn’t have any right to tell Tsuki—or him—what to do.

The way both of them jerked meant he must have managed to say something. _“Come on; you gotta come back with me.”_ Him changed back to his reason for being out Here, although Ichigo didn’t know how he knew where this guy or Tsuki came from.

He ran a hand through his dark brown hair. _“Neither of us should be out here to start with; he’s way too young to do anything like fighting and if they realize—“_

“If who realizes what?” Momma asked she opened the door enough for her to slip inside.

“M!” Ichigo said, beaming at her as she approached, ignoring Him as he flailed and nearly fell off the crib rail. “Did we have good dreams?” She asked as she checked his diaper, then Tsuki’s.

Ichigo was a little jealous that Tsuki didn’t have to put up with getting HIS diaper changed. ‘Lucky.’ He complained as Momma easily handled his struggling.

‘When you’re big enough you’ll learn how to control it, and then you won’t need a diaper.’ Tsuki told him, both of them ignoring what Momma and Him were saying.

Ichigo pouted. EVERYTHING seemed to have to wait until he was bigger. Eating Momma’s food, not napping, not having diaper changes… He huffed, feeling Tsuki’s amusement around him. ‘So why are you a baby then? Cuz you’re not really like me, right?’

‘Not sure. But I can’t change how I look, so I have to wait for you to grow up, just like you do.’ Tsuki shrugged as Momma picked Ichigo up, and then went to pick Tsuki up. “I’m not senseless to what he feels like, just like im not senseless to what you feel like or who you resemble. But even with all that, both of you feel just like Ichigo. Which is the only thing that matters.”

Ichigo had a feeling he’d missed something important while he and Tsuki were talking, given how Him hunched in on himself. _“I’ve tried looking different, less like him, but there’s only so much I can push it. Since that’s the image his Quincy part reflects in his mind.”_

Ichigo had no clue what was going on, but the weird Him felt adult-sad, like the way he looked was something he didn’t like. Like how Tsuki didn’t like his echo-y voice. Tsuki was trying to melt into Momma, seemingly afraid that he’d get taken back wherever if Him held him, but Ichigo reached out to him, waiting to be picked up.

Him looked at him like Ichigo was going to bite him or something. “He’s a baby, not a Hollow bristling with claws. But get off the crib rail first.” Momma chided Him, and he was standing on the floor before Him stiffly accepted Ichigo, holding him under his arms as far away from his body as he could, sort of like Daddy when Ichigo had a really stinky diaper.

With an amused smile Momma told Him how to properly hold Ichigo before leaving the room, fully expecting to be followed. _“Your mom’s a little scary…”_ Him whispered to Ichigo as he tried too hard to walk quietly, making Momma explain that Daddy had had to go with a case to the hospital.

Ichigo pouted a little when Momma didn’t let Him jump down the whole flight of stairs, which seemed like a lot of fun. But then he got distracted by the dark brown hair, which seemed silky compared to Momma’s, which was mostly soft. _“…Tensa?”_ He heard Him suggest, apparently in suggestion to what Momma should call Him, but he didn’t sound convinced about it.

Ichigo liked it though.

“Well then Ten-chan,” ‘Ten-chan’ choked on nothing upon hearing this. “It will be good to have another set of hands helping with them, especially as they become more mobile.”

Ichigo caught Tsuki’s eye and grinned, picturing all the times he’d seen Daddy at the receiving end of Momma’s tone. Tsuki’s answering grin told Ichigo he’d seen what he’d pictured, and they both giggled. Ichigo had a brief glimpse of Ten-chan looking older, older than Daddy, and he resolved to remember to call Ten-chan ‘Ossan’ as soon as he could.

For now, Ten-chan sat rigid, stiffly holding Ichigo as Ichigo examined his hair, including ramming it in his mouth for taste and texture. Ichigo had a feeling that if Ten-chan wasn’t terrified of what Momma would do to him, he might have tried to stop Ichigo, or divert his attention elsewhere. Tsuki relaxed his death grip on Momma’s clothes, content to keep his head on Momma’s chest and doze back off. As Momma turned on the TV for her stories, Ichigo smiled to himself.

Everything was alright in his world, even if he couldn’t put a name on just Tsuki and Ten-chan were to him.

But the one thing he was certain of was that they were his.


	4. Red and White All Over

Ichigo clapped his hands as best as he could, liking how Ten-ossan was making his animals—fox, wolf, bear, otter, rabbit (how does he know that?)—dance in the air. Momma was on the sofa with him and Tsuki, who was gnawing on a ‘teething ring’ Momma had bought just for Tsuki to use. Unlike his strawberries, it was moon-themed.

There was a strange kind of warmth bouncing between him and Tsuki; he liked how Momma was thinking about Tsuki, while Tsuki seemed to be amazed that Momma had bought anything for him.

Ichigo didn’t let him see what he’d seen Momma working on when Tsuki wasn’t outside. But she’d checked with him that everything was just as soft.

Ten-ossan and Tsuki didn’t seem to be as spooked by Daddy like the first few times. Tsuki still jumped, and there was the sense of hot if Tsuki was in the same room with Daddy, but Daddy didn’t question things when he was babbling at ‘air’.

The bell on the door rang. “Be right there!” Momma called. “Now neither of you move.” She told him and Tsuki as she stood and went to open the door.

Ichigo grinned when he saw it was jii-chan. Turning back to Ten-ossan and Tsuki, he frowned as his animals hit the floor, Ten-ossan nowhere in sight. Tsuki had pulled the ‘throw’ on top of him. “Un!” He grunted. ‘Why are you hiding?’

Something yummy-smelling drifted over with jii-chan as he came over to Ichigo. “Hello there Ichigo-chan.” He greeted as Momma took the yummy smell to the kitchen. “I brought over some blueberry muffins.”

“Oh I could live on these!” Momma said, already half-way finished the large muffin as she returned.

“I thought you did when you were pregnant with Ichigo-chan.” Jii-chan commented. “Are you watching a baby for someone Masaki-chan?”

Momma looked over to the hallway to the clinic briefly. “Ichigo’s zanpakutou spirit has been materializing.” She said, satisfied that Daddy couldn’t hear. “He’s a baby like Ichigo.”

“Is he…?” Jii-chan trailed off for some reason.

Ichigo grabbed the end of the throw closest to him, tugging. ‘It’s just jii-chan! Don’t hide!’

Tsuki kept firm hold, stubborn flowing between them as they each tried pulling the throw away. Tsuki had Momma behind him, so it was Ichigo who fell forward. “Na!” He scowled, something that made Momma squeal for some reason.

“Now Ichigo Tsuki doesn’t have to come out from under the blankie unless he wants to.” Momma said, Ichigo pushing himself back up before she tried to help. “I’m sure you’ve noticed, Souken-jii.”

“I have.” Jii-chan said, weirdly serious.

Ichigo has a weird feeling that Ten-ossan is watching through his eyes, somehow, and that Jii-chan isn’t someone Ten-ossan wants to be seen by. He’s frowning to himself about this as Jii-chan nodded to himself, leaning forward so he was clearly speaking to the hiding Tsuki. “Hello there, Tsuki-chan. I’m Jii-chan, for Ichigo-chan and Uryuu-chan. And you, if that’s alright.”

His voice was as warm as always, and after waiting long enough for Ichigo to start grabbing the blankie again, Tsuki carefully peeked out, only showing one eye. Jii-chan was smiling, but after making eye contact he retreated under the blankie. Ichigo pulled the blankie over his own head, pulling himself to be closer to Tsuki. Tsuki had that dazed and stunned look again, and Ichigo had that brief moment of Tsuki being a bunch of different people again. / _whywould a Quincybesokind I’m Shinigamiand Hollow._ /

Ichigo started, and Tsuki started too, realizing that Ichigo had heard the voices too. ‘You shouldn’t have heard that.’

‘Why? Cuz sometimes you’ve multiple voices?’ Ichigo cocked his head briefly, before grabbing onto Tsuki, pushing them both against Momma’s leg. ‘Don’t care. Mine.’

The way Tsuki grabbed back meant that Ichigo didn’t need the feel of _samefeeling_ to know that he was Tsuki’s as much as Tsuki was his. He didn’t know where Ten-ossan fit in yet, cuz he felt like a different kind of ‘mine’ from Tsuki.

Curled up with Tsuki, listening to the rise and fall of Momma and Jii-chan’s voices, Ichigo felt Tsuki’s warmth around them, lazy and content. An unfamiliar ‘voice’ came across his mind, something about babies and sleeping and mental exertion, and as he yawned, he realized it was Ten-ossan. Smiling to himself, it felt like Ten-ossan had wrapped them all up in his cloak and Ichigo dozed off with Tsuki, not bothered by the unplanned nap.

* * *

Masaki lifted up the throw once Ichigo and Tsuki had been still for a time, smiling at the pair of them wrapped around each other. Tsuki’s eyes opened briefly, but he didn’t stay awake, and it felt oddly like a victory. For Tsuki to trust that he and Ichigo would not come to harm…and to trust Masaki would protect both of them.

“Not quite what I expected.” Souken admitted, settling back. “Materializing with Ichigo so young…and how he acts…”

“Urahara-kun said once, when I bugged him on it, that the Hollow had been made up of Shinigami souls. At the heart of things, they are victims as well. When I saw him, before Ichigo was born, he didn’t feel like a unified thing, but now he does, more than he did before.” Masaki said, cupping her hand on Ichigo’s head.

“This foe of Urahara-san’s…I’m just glad he hasn’t expressed further interest in Us.” Souken said with a sigh.

That reminded Masaki. “Ichigo doesn’t have just one spirit. There’s another one, who calls himself Tensa, a teenager.” She paused. “He looks like the portrait Father burned.”

Why Father had even hauled the heavy thing with him when he left with Souken-jii she’d never know, but there was a heavy symbolism as, after soaking the portrait in gasoline for a week, he used the ancient flint to spark the fire that consumed it.

She never asked how old Father truly had been, but it wouldn’t surprise her if he had been old enough to have seen Yamamoto in his full, fiery blaze.

She also never asked why the pair of them had left, joining the diminishing Quincy of Japan, taking the names of the wives they married. Ryuu-kun had made it clear he had no interest in his father’s life before Japan, but she just wished she’d asked more before Father died.

Souken-jii poked one of Tsuki’s fists with his finger, Tsuki latching on and holding on tight. “If anyone could make friends with a Hollow, it would be Ichigo-chan. He’s too stubborn to accept otherwise.”

“So long as there’s no explosions.” Masaki prayed with a wry smile. “How’s Kanae-chan doing? I keep meaning to call…”

“Recovering. But every doctor Ryuuken’s consulted, himself and Isshin-san included, agree that another pregnancy may prove fatal.” Souken replied. “It’s a shame, since I know Kanae wishes for a little girl.”

“There’s always adoption, if we come across one spiritually strong.” Masaki pointed out. “Isshin and I plan to wait until near Ichigo starts school, to actively try for a little sibling. But if it happens earlier, it happens earlier.”

“Ryuuken was uncharacteristically expressive when he showed me the picture of Isshin-san’s reaction to the news.” Souken smiled at the memory, rubbing his thumb over Tsuki’s fingers.

“To be fair, Urahara-kun was just as surprised. Given the state of affairs in Soul Society, I’m not sure they’re using Gigai at all.” Masaki shrugged. “Just one of those things that isn’t thought about. Ryuu-kun still on his fast track?”

Souken rolled his eyes. “Of course. We may need to stage an intervention or Uryuu-chan will barely know his father by sight.”

* * *

Tsuki carefully tasted the creamy brown sweet Momma had on her finger. She had been busy mixing something up for hours, and had filled a bunch of molds with the same creamy brown sweet. Ichigo had been thoroughly distracted by something that made noise when he shook it, and Tensa had just watched everything with disinterest, slumped on the kitchen table, chair turned backwards. “ _ **Mmmm…**_ ” He said, not caring that he vocalized as he sought out every trace of whatever this wonderful thing was.

That pulled Ichigo from his noisemaker. “?” He tilted his head as Momma got another finger full for Ichigo to taste.

‘OMG WHAT IS THIS?!?!’ Ichigo nearly did his Daddy-screech when all of the brown sweet was gone and Momma took her finger away. “I see we like chocolate then.” Momma said, eyes sparkling with a smile. “Next year you’ll get your own chocolates.”

“ _Chocolate?_ ” Tensa perked up a tad, as Ichigo strained to reach the mixing bowl.

“It’s made from cacao, native to South America. Originally it was served as a drink mixed with spices, and the more cacao present, the more bitter the taste.” Momma explained, checking her molds.

Satisfied with one, she popped it out of the mold. “It’s for Valentine’s Day tomorrow, but I’ll just give you yours today.” She continued, setting the now-firm chocolate in front of Tensa on some kind of waxy paper.

“ _…for me?_ ” Tensa said with a slow blink, dazed. Craning his head, Tsuki could see that it was in the shape of some kind of man-horse, with a bow and arrow.

“In the Western zodiac, Sagittarius, the Archer, is the sign from November twenty second to December twenty first. Isshin’s birthday is the tenth of December, so the irony of a Shinigami having an archer as a zodiac sign was too much to ignore.” Momma said with a smile, holding out another finger full of chocolate to both Tsuki and Ichigo.

Tensa just stared at it for a long while, not really blinking. “ _Thank you._ ” He finally said, picking up his chocolate to nibble on it.

“Isshin’d likely say I shouldn’t be giving you chocolate this young, but we’re not gonna tell Daddy, right?” Momma said in a conspiratorial tone, making Ichigo and Tsuki giggle and Tensa smirk around his chocolate. “So is there a limit to how much ‘real’ food the two of you can eat?” She asked Tensa, who had set his chocolate down after only eating a small bit.

“ _Sort of. Neither of us is used to converting food into straight reishi consciously, and there’s only so much we can convert unconsciously. We’ll get better with more practice. I think us doing that means less strain on Ichigo_?” Tensa hazarded, shrugging. “ _Tsuki’s closer to Ichigo, and smaller, so it takes less for him to come out. The chocolate’s good, but I don’t remember sweet._ ”

“Too much sweet can be overwhelming if you’re not used to it.” Momma agreed, handing the babies their teething rings, which had been in the fridge getting cold, a relief to their gums. “I should start brainstorming about how to teach Ichigo some reiatsu control. I have no clue if the traditional methods will work.”

“ _There’s only so much I can pull back, and Tsuki can’t do that yet. It’ll get easier as Ichigo gets older, but it’ll be decades before he can truly conceal his presence._ ” Tensa added, breaking off another piece of chocolate to eat.

“Ma?” ‘Reiatsu?’ Ichigo asked.

‘It’s what you call the ‘warmth’.’ Tsuki explained.

“Okay so Isshin, Ten-chan, Souken-jii, Ryuu-kun, Urahara-kun, Tessai-san…” Momma ticked off on her fingers. “I think that’s everyone…”

* * *

“Now Ichigo,” Isshin began, talking to Ichigo almost a month after this ‘Valentine’s Day’. “This is the first White Day gift for Masaki as a Momma, so we need to make sure we pick a good one. We need this color.” He pointed to his white work coat. “Something floral is likely best, but not essential. So are you prepared to brave the chaos that is the shopping plaza?”

Ichigo giggled at silly Daddy, clapping his hands. “Remember, we need white.” Isshin repeated as he got Ichigo into the baby sling without disaster.

‘A whole day for white?’ Tsuki made a face, Tensa carrying him as they followed Isshin and Ichigo. ‘Who thought that was a good idea?’

“ _I get the point, I think, of returning the favor in relation to gift giving, but I’m with you on the white part._ ” Tensa agreed, making his own face. “ _It’s…white._ ”

Isshin bought a bunch of pure white daffodils once they were there, and started browsing. Ichigo looked around as best he could, but the sling left him lower, and so he saw more of the other people than of whatever they were supposed to be looking for. He frowned down at the counter, which had metal and shiny things strung together. Jewelry, he thought. ‘Not white…’

“ _Ichigo!_ ” Tensa called, as Isshin finished up his purchase of…something. Ichigo missed what it was.

Ichigo grabbed Daddy’s shirt, tugging. “Un!” He said, pointing over to where Ten-ossan was standing with Tsuki. It was a white…kitsune…spirit plush, nine tails failing out behind it. “The kitsune?” Daddy asked.

“Mu!” Ichigo confirmed, reaching out as far as the sling let him.

“But is it for Momma or for you?” Daddy asked, looking down at Ichigo.

Ten-ossan and Tsuki hid their faces in their hand as Ichigo just stared at Daddy. “Ma!” They weren’t shopping for him, they were shopping for Momma; besides, it’s not like Momma wouldn’t let him hold it or anything.

“Okay!” Daddy held his hands up, as if to ward off Ichigo’s disdain. “One white kitsune that can hold the diamond necklace box.” He opened the small box he’d gotten at the shiny counter. Something told Ichigo that the shape was a crescent moon, with a diamond star balanced in the opening, the moon and chain being silvery.

Ichigo nodded firmly. “Un!” He was ready to go as Daddy bought the kitsune; there was way too many people, and his arms and legs were aching from hanging in the sling as he was.

And he was done being with just Daddy.

Ichigo shared a grin with Tsuki, while Ten-ossan smirked slightly. “Just one more stop Ichigo.” Daddy said, making Ichigo screech at him. ‘He didn’t say that when we left!’ Ichigo complained to the other two.

“ _I wonder where he has to go…_ ” Ten-ossan wondered.

The ‘where’ was some kind of old-style building, and Ten-ossan disappeared with Tsuki once it was in sight. “?” Ichigo looked around for them as Daddy entered and was approached by a weird guy clanging away in clogs, that Ichigo thought he might have seen before. “Have any trouble?” Daddy asked.

“Yoruichi wants payment in sake. She’s not happy about having to break into Kukaku’s place for what you were after, even if she gets wanting to honor old clan traditions.” The hat on the weird guy’s head hid his eyes, and he wiped out a fan, hiding the rest of his face.

He felt Tsuki frown inside as Daddy talked to the weird guy. He felt weird, Ichigo finally realized. It wasn’t one thing, but…

“Un.” ‘He’s not real, is he?’ Ichigo frowned at the weird guy.

Suddenly the guy was in all black, with a white haori (?) over that, but as soon as the shift happened he was back to his greens. ‘No.’ Something dark pulsed from Tsuki, but thankfully the adults didn’t seem to notice.

‘You okay?’

/ _Taichouthey should haveletyou pleadyour case and theirs._ /

( **Fiery pain with the smell of blood coming from the flames.** )

There was something round and wooden in front of his face. With a scowl, Ichigo grabbed it and threw it away. He didn’t want anything from this—HatClog guy. “I guess that’s a ‘no’.” HatClog said calmly, picking it up.

He felt Ten-ossan narrow his eyes inside, suspicious. As they left, Ichigo decided to be grumpy until he was back with Momma. ‘Tell Momma about HatClog.’ He told Ten-ossan.

‘Right.’

* * *

Tensa waited until Masaki-san had come in for her nightly cuddle with Tsuki and Ichigo. True she held one or both of them plenty of times during the day, but Tsuki first came out at night, and she named him at night as well. “ _Who’s the guy in green, with the hat and geta?_ ” He asked without preamble. “ _Ichigo could tell something was weird about him. And he doesn’t like it. Tsuki just plain hates him._ ”

“Urahara-kun? Ichigo’s never had a problem with him before.” Masaki-san noted with a blink. “He’s the one who used Isshin’s power to bind the Hollow, so my soul didn’t commit Soul Suicide.”

“ _But now Ichigo knows Tsuki, and even if neither of them consciously know it, they know he did something._ ” Tensa said with a frown. “ _I don’t like him either. He did—something, to a lot of His People, and let someone else do even worse things_.”

“Believe me, I may regard Urahara-kun as a friend, but I’d be a fool to trust him outside an immediate danger to myself or the babies.” Masaki confirmed with a hard look in her eyes. “Which is why he does not need to know about Tsuki. Or you. And I’ll turn his ass into an archery blunt and destroy his soul if he even thinks he can dictate how my sons are to interact with each other.”

Tensa smiled grimly, nodding his agreement. He had no interest revealing himself to the man either, and hoped at least some of that concern covered him, as a part of Ichigo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten-chan doesn't realize it yet...understandable, given Masaki knows what he is. 
> 
> Am I publishing a Valentine's Day and White Day piece early? Yes? Does anyone care? Probably not.


	5. Escapes, Birthday, and Everything In-Between

Ichigo pulled himself up on his feet, clinging to the new thing that was in the hallway between the house and where Daddy worked. It looks like a fence, with another one like it at the other end of the hallway. Daddy had said while he’d been putting them in that it was to keep him out of trouble, since he was more mobile now.

He hadn’t even cared about the hallway until the fence things went up!

Reaching as high as he could, it seemed like he was just short of touching the top edge. “Gah!” He complained, pouting. Momma was on the phone. “…nae-chan, just have Souken-jii bring Uryuu-chan over here, then the two of you can…”

Tsuki appeared next to him. Ichigo was jealous to see Tsuki was more stable on his feet then he was. “?” He made a questioning noise. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Wanna get through here!’

Tsuki looked between the fence thing and Ichigo. “ _ **Un.**_ ” ‘Lemme lay down on the floor, and then you get on top of me. That should give you enough height to reach.’

‘Kay.’ Ichigo shuffled to the side, giving Tsuki the room he needed. Carefully holding on to the fence thing, he stepped onto Tsuki’s back.

Now his hand wrapped around the top. Tsuki had been right! Somehow Ichigo kept quiet, looking back to where Momma was pacing with the phone, ladle in hand. Setting his face into the adorably serious look his mother loved, Ichigo grabbed onto the top with both hands. Using the holes in the fence, he was able to ‘climb’ his right foot up to the top. Balancing briefly on the top, he shifted his weight, bringing over his left leg to hang from his hands on the over side of the fence.

Letting go, he wasn’t stable enough to stay on his feet, and landed on his bottom. Tsuki vanished briefly, reappearing with him in the space between the two fences. They shared proud grins before turning their attention to the second fence.

Unfortunately, Daddy appeared while Ichigo was getting ready to step on Tsuki and repeat the process. “Ichigo! The baby gates were not put up for you to climb!” He scolded, but his eyes and smile betrayed his amusement.

Ichigo just screeched, pouting as Daddy picked him up and carried him back to the house. Momma was hanging up the phone (why it was ‘hung up’ by pressing a button he didn’t know) as Daddy entered the kitchen with Ichigo. “We’ve had a breakout attempt.” Daddy told Momma, handing Ichigo over. “So I guess I lost that bet?”

Ichigo frowned at the tone in Daddy’s voice when he asked the question, before leaning in to press his lips to Momma’s in what something told him was a ‘kiss’. With an adorable scowl, Ichigo shoved Daddy’s face away from Momma’s. “Ma!” ‘What’s so great about touching your lips with someone else’s?’

Ichigo got the sense of a mutual shrug of confusion from but Tsuki and Ten-Ossan as both Momma and Daddy laughed, Daddy sneaking a quick peck before he went back to work. “Did Tsuki-chan help you get over?” Momma asked once Daddy was gone.

“Un.” Ichigo beamed, still proud of himself and Tsuki. Somehow it felt like working together like that was what he was supposed to do with Tsuki. That Tsuki would always give him that extra bit of ‘height’ to reach the top.

Tsuki appeared in Momma’s other arm, also beaming. “My smart boys.” Momma praised, hugging them close briefly before she turned to sit them in the little sofa she kept on the kitchen table so she could continue making lunch.

Ten-Ossan appeared in a chair, and Ichigo could tell that he was trying not to smile. “ _You need to be careful or you'll get hurt._ " He said instead.

Tsuki scowled, but didn’t use the Daddy-screech at Ten-Ossan. The one time he had, it had come out as a weird, doubled echo-y scream that startled all of them and made Ichigo’s hair stand on end. Tsuki had felt adult-sad, overwhelming the dart of loathing as he vanished, not coming back out until the day after.

Ichigo had had that sense of multiple people again, it seemed like the loathing was at…themselves? At Tsuki? Discarding the line of thought, he rammed one of Tsuki’s fists in his mouth. ‘My fist can’t be better than yours; we’re identical.’ Tsuki complained, but he let Ichigo continue.

* * *

Finally, a bath time that Daddy wasn’t in charge of. Ichigo always felt Tsuki’s longing during bath time, but unlike other times when Daddy was around, he never came out for bath time. Maybe he was worried the water would give him away; Ichigo didn’t know why Tsuki was worried about Daddy ‘knowing’ about him, just that he was.

But Daddy had gone out ‘drinking’ (how this was different from drinking at home or dinner he didn’t know), so Momma did bath time, and Ichigo was sharing a bath with Tsuki. Momma had put in bubbles, and Tsuki couldn’t get enough of them.

Tsuki, on his end, loved the bubbles. Some of his pieces compared the bubbles to bubbles made with laundry soap, but these bubbles were better, and smelled like lavender. At least he thought it was lavender; nothing in him remembered the smell of lavender being so…calming.

Masaki hadn’t needed to wash Tsuki, as he didn’t seem to get dirty the same way Ichigo did, but she did anyway, if only for the look on his face as she washed his hair. Turns out that hair-washing was as enjoyable for him as it was for Ichigo.

She couldn’t help but remember Tsuki’s origins every time she caught that look of dazed confusion and befuddlement. That only served to make her even more determined to treat him the same way she did Ichigo, to wrap him up in kindness. Doing her best to brighten her smile, she squirted water out of one of the bath toys at Tsuki, making him start, blinking at her. Refilling it, she handed it to him for inspection, while she squirted Ichigo with another one, making him giggle.

Tsuki carefully examined the thing Momma had given him. It was shaped like a dolphin, with a small hole in the mouth where the water squirted out. He made the mistake of having the hole pointed at his face when he squeezed the sides, getting water in his face.

Pouting, he glared at Ichigo, who was laughing like crazy. Turning the toy around, he squirted at Ichigo, getting him in the mouth.

“Bleh!” Ichigo wiped at his tongue, trying to get the yucky taste of soap out of his mouth. Grabbing another squirting toy, he made sure it was facing the right way before he squirted Tsuki back.

“Okay I think that’s enough of that…” Momma intervened before it got more heated, taking the squirting toys away, receiving identical glares and pouts. “ _ **Ma!**_ ” Tsuki complained. ‘Hey!’

“Well your fingers and toes are getting all wrinkly so I gotta get you two out and dry.” Momma said, sitting Ichigo then Tsuki on the towels she’d spread out. “Then we can cuddle.”

Cuddle time, any time of the day, was great, but cuddle time at night was even better, at least to Tsuki. Night time was when he’d first met Ichigo and Momma, and when Momma named him.

Ichigo rubbed at his eyes as he waited for Momma to finish drying and dressing Tsuki. What Tsuki had said was ‘reiatsu’ curled around all three of them, Momma’s reiatsu wrapping both of them up in warmth and safety and love. His reiatsu and Tsuki’s kind of swirled together where they met, mirroring how they wrapped around each other when they slept.

They had found that doing that helped keep the weird dreams Ichigo sometimes had away, while Ichigo knew that that it helped keep Tsuki’s pieces calm, even though Tsuki never talked about the pieces. It also felt like Ten-Ossan came out and held both of them some nights, but he was weird about Ichigo or Tsuki or Momma knowing about it.

Masaki balanced a baby on each hip as she left the bathroom. She’d done some experiments, and she’d found that while Tsuki ‘defaulted’ back to the white baby kimono every time he came out from Ichigo, she could dress him in other clothes. These clothes, after some time in what she thought of as Tsuki’s ‘area of influence’ in terms of his reiatsu, became invisible to Isshin, so she didn’t have to worry about Isshin spotting baby clothes floating in air or next to Ichigo.

Her boys were holding hands on her chest as she sat down in the glider, drawing the quilt around all three of them. Tsuki was already asleep, while Ichigo blinked sleepily up at her, not quite willing to give up the fight against sleep yet. “You like having Tsuki out to play with you?” She whispered, getting a smile in response. “I’m glad. I know someday he’s supposed to help protect you while pushing you to get stronger, so don’t take it personally if he seems mean at times, okay?”

“Un.” Ichigo said around a yawn.

“Tsuki-chan didn’t have an easy time of it before he joined you, so he’s still working out things.” Masaki added, running a hand over Ichigo’s hair.

The solemn look on Ichigo’s face, not at all detracted by his yawn, told her that he likely knew more than she ever would about what went on whenever Tsuki looked at her, dazed and confused and feeling like there were a bunch of people looking out of his eyes.

* * *

Ichigo held onto the fence thing, chewing on a finger. Tsuki had gone a couple steps without help some time earlier, and was currently watching him. And waiting.

Setting his jaw in an expression better suited for an older face, Ichigo let go of the fence and took a step. It was weird, not having anything to hold onto, but he ignored that and the feeling of being unstable.

He only got three steps before he fell back on his bottom, but somehow he managed to get back to his feet and keep walking. After a short eternity, Ichigo plopped down on the blanket Tsuki was also on, ducking his head bashfully as pride filled Tsuki’s reiatsu. “Oh my goodness you were walking Ichigo!” Momma exclaimed, making Ichigo and Tsuki jump. “Can you come to Momma?”

Momma was crouched down, the video camera at her fight. “You too, Tsuki.” She added in a whisper.

Masaki had done her level best not to squeal when Ichigo walked from the baby gate to the blanket Tsuki was on. The look of concentration on his face had just been adorable, and now that look was back, a matching one on Tsuki’s faces. About halfway their hands found each other, and to Masaki’s surprise it didn’t impede either of them.

She had noticed holding hands was a thing for the two of them, or Ichigo gnawing on Tsuki’s fist. While the later was something Tsuki tolerated in the same way a cat might tolerate a curious baby, the hand-holding was more unconscious. Part of Masaki wondered if Ichigo was already reaching for his zanpakutou blade, as he always grabbed Tsuki with his right hand.

Well, she could wonder about sudden hand-holding later. Right now she had a pair of ten month olds to praise and treat, and a video to show off. Setting the camera aside, Masaki focused her attention on praising her boys.

* * *

Ichigo screeched at the bottom of the ‘wading’ pool Momma had set up outside and filled partially with water, a HUGE umbrella shading most of it. He had been trying to make splashes by stomping his feet, when he suddenly found himself on his bottom. “It’s not Daddy’s fault that the bottom is a little slippery.” Daddy said, wandering out of the clinic to watching Ichigo.

Ichigo just stuck his tongue out at Daddy. To his left, Tsuki was enthralled by scooping up water and pouring it back out, watching how the sun made the water sparkle. ‘Calm down.’ He said, looking up at Ichigo.

Ten-Ossan, who was kneeling outside the ‘wading’ pool and watching, said, “ _You know Isshin’s always at fault._ ”

‘I wonder if Ichigo’s picked up on how it’s Isshin who’s binding my Hollow parts.’ Tsuki pondered to Tensa, careful to keep Ichigo out of the conversation as Isshin made funny faces at Ichigo, who looked decidedly unimpressed.

 _“It’s possible…_ ” Tensa conceded, as Ichigo stood back up and carefully stomped his foot, splashing Isshin. “ _The real question we should ask is what does she see in him?_ ”

Tensa hadn’t made an effort to keep his voice low, meaning Masaki heard him. Once Isshin had gone back inside, she smirked at Tensa. “What I truly see ‘in’ him isn’t age-appropriate, so we’ll go with ‘he makes me laugh’.”

The distant boom of thunder made all of them look to the sky, where dark clouds were gathering on the horizon. Ichigo and Tsuki both drooped as Masaki and Tensa picked them up. Bundling them each in a towel, Masaki carried Ichigo in before she turned to the task of taking down the umbrella and pool, leaving Tensa to watch the babies. She still had a good line of sight on the babies, though, and taking everything down didn’t take very long anyway.

* * *

Ichigo couldn’t help his excitement. There had been a bunch of people and things wrapped in paper that he’d gotten to rip open and balloons and even a cake made with ice cream!

But that had been for him. Now, with just him, Momma, Tsuki, and Ten-Ossan, it was Tsuki’s turn for the cake made with ice cream and something wrapped in paper to rip open.

Daddy was asleep, and Ichigo was hugging onto the plush jii-chan had made for him as he stood watching Momma get things together. It was supposed to look like him, since its hair was orange too, with some kind of white top and black bottoms like what his dream older-self wore, with a sword and a bow in a quiver.

Tsuki stood next to him, watching everything with a tilted head. He hadn’t been able to really be Outside today, since there were too many people around the house who wouldn’t understand if they saw Tsuki. At least, that was how Momma explained it. Ten-Ossan had been in the same situation, and was now crouched behind them.

Tsuki looked between the two bundles wrapped in paper and Momma. “It’s okay, go ahead and open them.” She encouraged, while Ichigo was vibrating from his efforts to keep still.

Carefully, he picked the square-ish one, examining it for something to grab onto before he tore the paper. He only had to rip about half the paper off to reveal the item.  
It was a quilt, much like the one Ichigo always had to have in the crib with him at night. There were crescent moons worked into the pattern, and done in shades of blue, from one that was nearly black to one that looked white at first glance. Grabbing a corner, he rubbed his cheek on it, and it was just as soft as Ichigo’s quilt.

Momma and Ichigo beamed at him (Momma having a camera in hand), while Tensa showed interest in the happenings. “Don’t forget the other one, that’s from Souken-jii.” Momma gently reminded him.

This was a little harder to open, since he didn’t want to put down his new quilt to do so. He blinked once he saw it. It looked like the plush Ichigo had gotten, with white hair and a red kosode instead of the white Mandarin-style shirt on Ichigo’s. It didn’t have a quiver with a bow and arrows along with the sword either, but there was something that represented a Hollow’s mask on the side opposite the sword.

Clinging both the plush and the quilt to him, Tsuki just stared at Momma and Ichigo, blinking rapidly. Ichigo hugged on him, letting him hide his face in Ichigo’s shoulder, the reverse of how their hugs normally went. Then Tensa bundled the pair of them in his cloak, the way he did at night only this time Ichigo and Tsuki were awake-awake to feel it.

Momma ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry if this overwhelmed you, but I mean it when I say you are my son just as much as Ichigo. Just like how Souken-jii meant it when he said he could be your jii-chan.

“Su-ki!” Ichigo said emphatically, not quite able to make the ‘tsu’ in ‘Tsuki’. ‘You’re mine now Tsuki, no matter where you had been before or whatever you were. I’m not gonna make you go away, even if you try to be mean like in the weird dreams.’

Tensa didn’t say anything, but just the fact he was comforting Tsuki, and not just holding him because he was in the form of a baby and not very independent…

‘Momma’s got a cake that’s made with ice cream shaped like a crescent moon for you and it’s really yummy and cold and messy and—!’ Ichigo babbled on about the wonder of ‘ice cream cake’ as Momma got Tsuki’s cake out of the freezer. “It’s a birthday cake. I’m guessing that as Ichigo’s zanpakutou, if zanpakutou have birthdays then it would be the same as Ichigo’s?” Momma asked as she set the small cake down, his name done in swirl-y Romanji letters.

Tsuki just nodded as he accepted the spoon he was given. Frowning a little as he set aside his quilt and plush (to keep them safe from the ice cream), he crouched down, frowning more as he tried to work the spoon. Giving up, he grabbed a handful and rammed it in his mouth. “ _ **!**_ ” He made a noise of delight. ‘You can help me.’ He told Ichigo, who had been close to diving in to start with.

“Ichigo you’re wound up enough from your own cake…” Momma fake-scolded with a smile, before turning to Tensa. “And don’t think I’m leaving you out.”

She pulled out another small cake from behind her back, shaped like a bow with an arrow drawn, ready to fire. “I have no clue if there is such a thing as birthday celebrations, but I doubt you’d want to celebrate any kind of birthday on That Day. And I have no clue when it is.” She admitted at the end as she held out the cake to Tensa.

With the familiar, long blink that told Masaki that he was baffled at why she was including him, Tensa accepted the cake with a spoon. Tsuki and Ichigo already had his cake a mess, making Masaki glad she’d taken the precaution of stripping the pair down to their diapers.

Watching Tensa carefully eat some of his cake while Ichigo and Tsuki licked Tsuki’s cake off each other’s hands, she gathered up the wrapping paper and stood, going for wash clothes, towels, and night clothes for the babies. She wished that she could share this with Isshin, but he’d likely tell Urahara-kun, who’d want to do *something*, and that was. Not. Happening.

At least, wrangling two babies and dealing with the moody teenager that was Tensa (and he was moody despite all his protests) was good practice for the future. She had no way of knowing for sure, but something told her that she’d have twins when they decided to give Ichigo a sibling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would I love to have ice cream cake for my birthday? Yes. But as a December baby, it's not very practical. So Mississippi Mud Cake for me. 
> 
> If someone could draw chibi!Tsuki holding his blankie and plush I will love you forever.


End file.
